There’s a thing that happens in transient cities like Miami when an old friend who left town for greener pastures returns for a visit. Can she recreate those fond, only-in-Miami memories of bottomless brunches that rolled right into happy hour (and, on rare occasions, kept going till dawn)?
Probably not, which is why we worried about the return of KYU, a restaurant that, back in the day, featured on pretty much everyone’s list of favorite Miami restaurants.
The Wynwood restaurant closed in November 2022, purportedly after storm damage. In the meantime, KYU clones have spawned in Mexico City, New York, Las Vegas and Los Angeles. Meanwhile, the Michelin guide landed in Miami, and one of our top local chefs finally reclaimed Florida’s James Beard clout. Could KYU, at this particular moment, possibly live up to its memory?
The short answer is yes. New KYU is as good as it was—perhaps better. The team has taken that special, original recipe and improved it with new dishes, fresh cocktails and a similar but more refined ambiance than the original.
The night I went, it was late into the dinner service, and a friend and I grabbed the last two open seats at the bar. Just like before, there’s a buzzy energy, the music and the chatter just to the point where you can still hold down a first-date-level conversation. (Don’t believe what you read in a bank-owned review site that curmudgeonly complained about it being too loud).
Aesthetically, KYU hasn’t changed a whole lot—it’s more like a refresh, with the same basic layout, contained in a windowless but still well-lit room of naked wood tables sandwiched between a bar and an open kitchen.
We asked the bartender what’s new, and he handed us a comic-book-like drink menu, illustrated and annotated, some of the items pretty wildly named (Smelt of Elderberries, really?). We both ordered the Old Slabside, a Manhattan-esque drink with black garlic giving it a fascinating funkiness. A square of pork jerky on the side of the glass added a fattiness that made the drink go down smooth.
The bartender also pointed out the new food items. We started with the burrata, a creamy bulb resting atop yuzu marmalade with tomatoes and peppadew and sprinkled with fried shisho leaves, a well-grilled Zak the Baker sourdough on the side. Sweet, tangy, salty and full of texture, it was so like the old KYU, giving us a dish that’s on every menu but just doing it so much better than most.
This was also the case with the corn ribs, essentially chunks of corncobs cooked low and slow like meat, then dusted with a powdered blackened onion spice blend for umami and brushed in a fermented Japanese condiment called yuzu koshō. I’ve just simply never had anything like it, and it was fantastic.
Lots of KYU’s originals have returned, like the hot pot and the brontosaurus-sized beef rib and the coconut cake at the end that I’d gladly accept as my birthday dessert for the rest of time. Like that old friend who comes back to town, we wanted KYU to be as good as we remembered, but it’s actually better.